


Sansa Stark is:  THE JONSA AGENDA

by Alzerak



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: (to a degree), Absolutely ludicrous scenario., And twist it horribly, And what I believe to be a Swedish term, Blow Jobs, Breast Play, Cousin Incest, Crack, Crack Kink, Cunnilingus, Exhibitionism, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Facials, Half-Sibling Incest, Jonsa finding Jonsa kinky, Like I horribly twist both the English Language, Like seriously this is the dumbest thing I ever wrote, Look even I'm not sure if tags can explain the utter stupidity within, Mirror Sex, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Naked Female Clothed Male, Nipple Play, No one asked for this but here it is..., Of course this time I steal someone else's good idea, Self-cest, Seriously anachronistic language, Threesome - F/F/M, Usually I have my own bad ideas., Voyeurism, You have been warned., seriously, would you fuck Sansa? Sansa would fuck Sansa. (Can you blame her?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24124009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alzerak/pseuds/Alzerak
Summary: Queen Sansa Stark finds herself transported through time and space, with a golden opportunity before her.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark/Sansa Stark, Sansa Stark/Sansa Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	Sansa Stark is:  THE JONSA AGENDA

**Author's Note:**

  * For [qinaliel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qinaliel/gifts), [Amymel86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/gifts).



> And whilst everyone else is brilliantly creating lovely, wonderful drabbles, I in my twisted perversions, after months of dumb ideas not put into writing, finally write this utter monstrosity. At least it will probably get buried among the brilliant fics.

That reaction, Sansa supposed, was just about what she should have expected. After all, one does not usually find oneself staring back at their own self. Yet, she herself was surprised to find herself in this situation; one moment, she had been in quiet contemplation in the Godswood, and now, she was staring at what she had been a couple of years younger. The younger Sansa warily observed the intruder that looked much like herself, glancing about the room to explain to herself how someone could have remained hidden in order to pop out and surprise her as had been done.

Queen Sansa should have realized that there was only one thing she would have done if someone materialized in her room during that time, and the younger Sansa mustered out a booming cry for Jon that reverberated through Winterfell. A moment later, Jon burst through the door, Longclaw drawn, ready to strike down any who would do his precious sister ill.

Seeing the almost crazed, half driven mad look of Jon bursting into the room, Queen Sansa felt herself flare with desire, yet she quelled her impulses for the time being, time that the younger Sansa used to assure Jon that she was, for the time being, unharmed, yet there was a stranger in the room. Jon, for his part, had looked on the new Sansa with no small degree of confusion, before concern for his own Sansa had overruled his attention. But now, the two were united. Longclaw was down yet still unsheathed, but Sansa recognized that he was coiled to spring at a moments notice. 

But Queen Sansa was a master, and sometimes, the best course of action was to completely shock the system and change the playing field. If she tried to explain how she suddenly appeared in her own self’s room in her past, in her own perspective, she herself did not know, and it would sound like outlandish lies that would be mistrusted, so she just flopped herself into a chair with the casual air of someone who was master of their domain, and waved a hand over the two.

“You can go first, I’ll wait my turn.”

“Who are you?” Jon demanded, voice booming with authority, but he, as Sansa intended, was discombobulated by Queen Sansa’s behaviour. “What do you mean,” Jon continued, as his own train of thought, where he was the one going to be asking the questions and leading the encounter, suddenly derailed. “Who’s going first, to do what?”

”I’ve waited years, I can deal with waiting another couple of hours.” Queen Sansa replied cryptically, regarding the other Sansa. “After all this is a weird situation and technically although Winterfell is my home, in this encounter I am closer to a guest so it would be rude of to jump the queue and be the first one out of the two of us to fuck Jon.”

If Jon looked tense before, Sansa saw horror, fear, disgust, self-loathing, lust, desire all flash in his eyes, but overall, he seemed ready to leap to the defence of the dignity of his innocent sister, defending her against such horrid words coming out of the intruder’s mouth.

But Sansa spoke first. “I can’t!” Wide-eyed, she glanced at Jon, as if terrified that Jon would see into the depravity of her soul.

“It’s pretty simple.” Sansa explained, standing up with such alacrity that she was on Jon in a split second, shoving him onto the bed with a strength that surprised both of them, before the Queen straddled the King with her shocked self looking on.

“This is merely one way,” Queen Sansa explained. “In fact,” Sansa smirked, looking herself over. “I’ve just thought of a brilliant idea. Kneel on the bed there.” Sansa commanded herself, pointing next to Jon’s head.

By this time, reality seemed to have caught up with Jon, and he raised his head to protest the situation, but Queen Sansa reached down with a firm grip on his throat, not enough to do any damage, and shoved him back.

”You’re here to service your Queen tonight.” Sansa scolded, rocking her hips over the bulge in Jon’s breeches. 

This, however, led to the other Sansa to finally snap out of her discombobulation at seeing herself throw Jon down on the bed, and she pushed the Queen’s arm away, glaring protectively.

The Queen looked up at Sansa then flicked her eyes to her brow where her crown rested. “That would confuse you, but I’m just her for a good fucking, I’m not his queen. I am the Queen in the North, but tragically the title was not borne from an incestuous union.”

Sansa’s cheeks blazed red. “I DIDN’T MEAN that! I meant you can’t just throw Jon down and have your way with him! He’s your - our brother!”

”That true, Jon?” Queen Sansa quirked a brow.” 

King Jon seemed, once again, completely spellbound by the fact that Queen Sansa Stark was straddling him, but the colour in the other Sansa’s face suddenly drained white, and his attention was on her.

”Sansa?” Only Sansa could make Jon ignore the Sansa atop him.  
“If she’s queen, that means…”

“My Jon isn’t dead; he’s just an idiot.” Sansa explained, to the sagging relief of Sansa. “He’s North. North of the wall, probably gratrunka. It’s a very long story.”  
“What’s gratunka?” Sansa asked, just as Jon looked up at the Sansa atop him, askance. “Why would I leave you?”

”Because you’re an idiot who is determined to punish yourself.” Sansa explained. “And you’re probably cry-wanking over your sister-boner up there in the cold. Which is what gratrunka means, near as I can figure.”  
“You’re saying that I left you alone in Winterfell!” Jon demanded, as Sansa flushed scarlet at the thought of him touching himself to the thought of her ran through her head.

“YES! You left me all alone and…” The queen trailed off. “It’s not you, we’ve all changed, and it’s certainly not all your fault; in fact, very little of it is your fault.”  
“I don’t understand.” Jon continued. 

“The simple fact is, that I was in the godswood, by the heart tree, contemplating how much I want to fuck Jon, when suddenly I’m here, the opportunity presented to me. I’m not going to say no to that.” Sansa explained, with the air of one talking complete sense.

Sansa’s flush had subsided somewhat, but she averted her eyes as she asked. “If what you’re saying is true, about who you are and where you’re from and what you think Jon is doing, why haven’t you and your Jon…”

”I can’t just go to Jon and throw him down; that would be wrong.”

”But you’re doing it to my Jon.”

The Queen smirked at her own self’s possessive language. 

“It’s different. He’s the king, and so the power level is equal between us. Meaning that we can throw down like this.”

”But you said that he is to service you.” Sansa bit her lip. “Does that mean he doesn’t get a say in the matter?”

The queen blinked, confused. “I said he’s here to service his Queen tonight.” Sansa laughed, with the knowledge of realization. “But I’m not his Queen. I am the Queen in the North, but not your Jon’s Queen.”  
“Then who is…” Sansa was no idiot, and so she quickly realized who the Queen Sansa was referring to. “Jon doesn’t want! Jon would never!” Sansa squeaked in denial.

“Oh dear, I remembered my incest angst but I forgot it was bad enough for this level of denial…” The Queen trailed off, moving her hips and hands so quickly that Jon huffed and bounced as his cock was suddenly engulfed by the Queen’s quim. Sansa blinked, seemingly momentarily unable to process this escalation.

Sansa tested out moving herself along the shaft. “You know how good you imagined it’d feel?” She asked herself. “It’s so much better.”

“Don’t say that!” Sansa squeaked with horror, looking down at Jon with mortification.

“But look at Jon. This is probably beyond his wildest dreams, and yet he’s not even caring that I’m riding him.” Indeed, the King was still focused on his sister, caring more about her state of mind than the fact that he was being fucked himself. The Queen was languidly directing herself.

“Straddle his face. You’ll see the difference between the fuck that we’re doing and the Jonsa.”

Whether it was the gentle tone of the command, or finally her own willingness to protest had broken, Sansa obeyed, her fingers moving of her own accord to expose her cunt to Jon’s lips. The king breathed in a sigh of relief at the prospect, before his lips and tongue made contact with the folds of his sister’s cunny. Sansa felt his cock harden inside her, his hips bucking up at the sensation of lapping into his own sister overcame him. The queen gently rode the wave, allowing her younger self to get lost in the sensation of Jon’s mouth. It was very odd, watching herself, eyes closed, completely lost in the sensation of bliss that was her pussy being licked at by her brother-king. It was arousing, albeit in a very strange way. But beyond what seemed to be almost involuntary spasms, the King paid the Sansa riding his cock no mind. His hands gently caressed the sides of the nightwear his Sansa wore, and Sansa herself was happy to just feel the hardness of his cock inside her quim, her patience allowing her to wait for a more through fucking.

Jon must have known what he was doing, and at any rate, Sansa hadn’t expected herself to last long anyway, and she released her own lip with a desperate cry, her leg quivering as she lifted it off of Jon, sagging herself back onto her pillows. Jon twisted around, surprising the Sansa atop him, who tumbled onto the bed, eyes only for Sansa.

An understanding passing between them, whatever conversation they needed to have would come later, Jon stood, his erect cock erupted from his breeches, causing Sansa to squeak and blush as she saw it for the first time. Sansa, having felt it inside her, felt her breasts and cunny tingle at the sight. For the first time, Jon was in control.

”On your knees.” The king commanded, and Sansa obeyed, bending over and shuffling herself to present her rear to the King, as she watched on, wide-eyed with lust as the king flipped her skirt over her arse, his strong hands tearing through her undergarments, exposing her cunt to his thick finger which dipped inside. Jon snarled wolfishly, yet he seemed unwilling to delay, and gripping her hips hard, almost painfully, he thrust his cock into the soaking folds of Queen Sansa’s cunny.

”How dare you make my sister uncomfortable with your wicked lusts.” The King chastised as he thrust his hips into her. 

“She’s literally me.” The Queen protested, to which Jon shoved her face onto the bed, causing her body to suddenly lock with arousal as his cock penetrated her quim, deeper than it ever had before. “I am King, and I will not be spoken back to in my house by you.” Sansa, her face still pressed into the soft covers of her bed, her soaking cunt being thoroughly fucked, watched her almost mesmerized self’s hands rub down her own body, down her thighs.

“Do it.” Sansa mouthed to herself. For once, Jon’s attention seemed to be on dominating the newcomer, his free hand stinging her arse as he brought it down to punish her for her general misbehaviour.

Jon, distracted by the thought that striking her might have been going too far, failed to notice his own Sansa swipe over her cunny at the sight of her King dominating an image of herself, her fingers dipping into her folds at the sight of herself being firmly, yet safely struck.

”Sorry.” Jon muttered, his own self-doubt creeping in.

“I think she enjoyed it.” Sansa muttered under her breath, watching her eyes roll back into her head as she swiveled her quim on her hooked fingers. Jon, seemingly taken by the sheer eroticism of such an act, ceased fucking Sansa so hard and in such a dominating fashion,allowing both to enjoy the sight, allowing Sansa to push herself onto her elbows as the king built up a steady rhythm, as the Jonsa duo fucking watched, entranced, as Sansa built up her own pleasure, half watching the two, half lost in her own bliss, her eyes fluttering open in focus, flushing deeply as she not only saw herself being watched, but at having been caught touching herself to the sight of Jonsa fucking in front of her.

Before Jon could say anything, Sansa caught her attention. “He’s only concerned about you. Just relax and enjoy it.”

Sansa, her fingers still delicately working the petals of her private place, gazed past herself at Jon, whose hips stuttered into Sansa’s quim as he took in her bright blue eyes, blown wide with arousal. “Jon definitely is.” Sansa smirked, snapping Sansa’s attention back to her. “I think he likes watching you more than he likes fucking me.” Sansa flushed at her words, biting her lips, yet she shuffled up, opening her legs so Jon could see the vibrant red curls on her sweet cunt, her fingers messy with her own juices, her chest heaving as she returned to watch Jon fuck herself.

”Is it as good as you imagined?” Sansa asked, smirking as she saw Sansa and felt Jon freeze with exposed secret guilt. “Touching yourself, imagining your King fucking you into your bed.

“How did you know? Don’t tell him!” Sansa screeched with a flush, her mind catching up with that this intruder knew all her secret shames.

”Don’t feel alone; I’m sure Jon has had many dreams of the same nature.”

Being called out, Jon stopped his movement guiltily, yet his hips and cock seemed to still move of their own accord, gently delving into her quim. “Like he really likes your breasts.”

“How do you know?” Sansa asked, even as her hand moved near them. 

“He told me. You. Us.” Sansa corrected herself. She watched herself, look past her, beseechingly, at Jon.

“I like the wolf bit.” Jon confessed with a groan of delight as Sansa exposed her shapely teats to his gaze, breathing lustfully as the sight caused him to start fucking the Sansa was harder once more. Soon, the sight of her bringing a hand up to caress herself caused Jon’s hips to begin to stutter, his cock almost ready to burst. Feeling this, Sansa felt her own quim begin to quiver in anticipation, and Jon manfully, yet delicately increased the tension until her cunny was spasming with orgasmic anticipation, awaiting the squirt of Stark seed inside her.

Yet Jon made to pull himself out, but generously allowed Sansa to continue fucking herself on his cock as her zenith waned, his heroic resolve holding out manfully against spilling inside her.

”Fair enough, I got my good fucking, and whilst I’d never say no the nut from Jon Snow I definitely understand why it belongs first and foremost to his Sansa.”

Jon stopped her hips. “We cannot do the incest.” Jon protested to his Sansa’s crestfallen nods. “And even though we’re doing the fucc, I must not do the nut inside the sister, even if it is the future sister.”

Knowing that Jonsa did want to do the incest, and any protests they made were merely to convince themselves not to, and they would leap to any excuse in order to facilitate the fucc, and knowing that one crime could be a gateway into another, so knowing that if Jon nutted in the ‘sister’ he would likely be inclined to nut in the sister, which is what everyone wanted, after all, so stretching herself out, Sansa swiped her tongue up Sansa’s cunt.

Time seemed the expand and then contract, as the moment was stretched out and then everything happened at once. Sansa’s mouth fell open with a scream of bliss and then horror as she watched her brother stiffen then fall flat upon Sansa, whose momentarily delight at feeling Jon’s manhood pulse inside her was cut short as the weight of his body fell atop her. Heaving and shuddering, Sansa managed to push him off of Sansa, who twisted herself and was relived to see his chest rise and fall as he groggily sat himself up, swaying as he did.

”What happened?” Jon asked, almost falling off the bed, his Sansa reaching over to steady him. 

“Help me get him to the chair.” Queen Sansa said, helping Jon up, who was still disoriented from nutting so hard inside the sister-queen that he passed out. 

After a moment, where he was able to catch his breath, Jon regarded Queen Sansa.  
“Why?” 

”Needs must, and I sort of get the appeal of it now.” Sansa glanced over to herself, who was blushing fiercely. “And now that you have nutted inside the sister-pussy, and quite copiously so, if I do say so myself.” Jon blushed this time. “You’re probably safe for now.”

Gently, Queen Sansa guided her other self over to Jon, sliding the hap-hazardly hanging nightgown off her body, expertly divesting Sansa of her night garb.

“We still cannot do the incest.” 

It seemed almost painful for Jon to protest, but his own Sansa had a clever solution. 

“It doesn’t count if it doesn’t go in.”

Jon nodded. “Should I-” Jon made to undress, naked Sansa looking on expectantly.

“Later.” Queen Sansa commanded, making Sansa sit down atop Jon, the folds of her slick cunny teasing at his manhood as she writhed atop him making herself comfortable yet failing to do so at the sensation of arousal welling up inside her, feeling Jon’s strong hands attempt to steady, touching her skin for the first time in places as she felt his beard and breath and elevated heartbeat against her back.

Sansa smirked down at herself, before cockily glancing at Jon. “You know she touched herself to this thought. I mean, before tonight.”

”STOP TELLING HIM THAT!” Sansa screeched, watching herself step away smugly. “He’ll think I’m horribly wanton and wicked!”

”No!” Jon protested softly, tendering. “Not at all. You’re beautiful, Sansa.” Lost in the moment, neither noticed that Sansa had stepped into another room, as Jon’s hand wandered up to the bottom of her left breast.

“Mmmm.” Sansa wriggled with an exhale. “Touch me, please, Jon.”

Gently cupping her teat, the fingers of Jon’s free hand delicately moved down her body, passing through the curls above her, softly making their presence known aside the button at the apex of her flowering cunt.

“Does that feel good, sweet one.” Jon asked. Sansa sighed, sagging against his strong form. “Mmm, Jon, yessssssss.” 

Feeling his fingers very gently explore the blossoming lips of her most private place, Sansa sighed with the pleasure of an intimacy hitherto unrealized, her little sighs and moans all the indicated and encouragement Jon needed. 

”May I kiss you?” Jon asked, and Sansa craned her head to present her neck to him, and he partook in the offering, gently planting butterfly kisses up and down as his fingertip dipped into the slick wetness of her cunny, eliciting a moan and a writhing from Sansa as she fell into the long sought sensation of Jon touching her most intimate place, feeling herself slip against his cock, she moved her hand down, wrapping her delicate fingers around the shaft, her head turn back towards Jon’s, mouth open with a query, which Jon swallowed with a greedy, open-mouthed kiss, tongue duelling with hers as it delved into her mouth, her fingers around his cock experimentally moving up and down as the pad of his thumb swiped over her clit, his left hand gently squeezing her tit as she moaned aloud as her pleasure built, eyes fluttering closed as they relied on touch to build a tension that had Sansa bursting, yet, after only a brief moment of recovery, climb began anew, yet before the tension could climb to such heights of nirvana once again, a thud alerted them to the return of Queen Sansa, the cause of the sound made apparent by the very large and heavy mirror before them.

“How did you carry that in here?” Sansa asked.

“And so quietly too.” Jon added.

”I am freakishly strong. Not that either of you would have noticed the sound anyway.” 

Jonsa had the good grace to flush.

“Not that I blame you. And to make it up to you, Sansa,” Sansa said, divesting herself of her skirt and undergarments as she sat on the bed, next to the mirror and opposite Jonsa. “This time I’ve brought a tool of Jon’s kinks. He really likes the thought of making you watch your own pleasure in the mirror.”

“Hey,” Sansa squeaked, embarrassed at the thought, closed her legs, not quite all the way, yet enough to gently squeeze Jon’s hand. “I understand how you know what I thought about, but how do you know what Jon’s desires are?”

”Yeah, how?” Jon asked, watching Sansa unbutton the top of her dress.

“Because I am very clever and brilliantly intuitive.” Sansa responded, slipping out of her dress, leaving herself bare except for stockings and crown. I’m willing to bet that Jon could be gratrunka to this right now; Sansa waved a hand over her own body, which Jonsa were looking on, mesmerized by the sight, which would not do for Sansa.

”I think it’s time you divested yourself of your clothes, your grace. Ah.” Sansa chided, as she made to stand up to allow Jon to be free. “Sansa doesn’t need to get up for this.” 

With some degree of difficulty, made harder by the fact that there was a naked Sansa watching on, a pair of fingertips delicately building tension at the apex of her cunt, distracting the both, yet they managed to help each other divest Jon of her troublesome attire, but Sansa, see her touch herself to herself, seemed reluctant to resume prior activities.

“She really wants you to spread her legs wide.” Jon glanced away from the Sansa across from him, to the Sansa atop him who was biting her lips. “But not with your hands.” Sansa instructed. “Hook her legs around your knees and…”

With a flushed face, Sansa nodded her assent, burying her face into the crook of Jon’s neck as he gently pried her willing legs apart, Sansa opening her own legs up as she dipped a finger into the stickiness of Jon’s seed inside her quim. But Jon had all eyes for his own Sansa’s gorgeously expanding pussy. 

“Look, Sansa.” Jon instructed, waiting for Sansa’s eyes to flutter open, meeting his in the mirrored reflection. “You have such a beautiful cunny.” 

Although it was meant for Sansa, Sansa felt a surge of excitement at Jon’s statement, pinching her nipple as she bit her lip to stifle her moan as Sansa watched, entranced, at the sight of Jon gently touching all over her body, gently flicking a thumb over her pink teats and down to play with her cunny, building her delicious tension before letting it wane slight, returning to cup her breasts with both hands. Sansa wriggled in protest at the loss.

“Touch yourself, lovely girl.” Jon commanded, spreading his knees a little wider, jolting Sansa’s attention back to herself. Obediently, Sansa watched her reflection as she obeyed, one hand at her own cunt, the other reaching for his cock as he pressed passionate kisses against the side of her blazing cheeks, as she pushed his rock hard cock against the slickness of her cunny, rocking to another zenith as she did. 

“Do…Do you want me?” Sansa asked shyly, even as Jon fought desperately to stop from bucking himself into her and breaking her rhythm. “Would you like to be inside me?”

“SANSA!” Jon groaned in agony. “Don’t. Of course I want, but I can’t - we… I can’t do that to you.” 

Jon felt a warmth engulf his cock, and looked down to see the Queen on her knees before him, his manhood in her warm, wet mouth as her tongue worked around the shaft, her head moved back and forth a couple of times before she released it with a pop, licking up the underside of the shaft as she pressed it back against Sansa’s cunny, her hands working quickly as she gently guided it into Sansa’s welcoming quim, her tongue chasing Jon’s cock up into the meeting point, and swiping past it, along her cunt to the apex. 

”We didn’t do the incest.” Jonsa stated in unison. “And if we try to extricate ourselves, we may accidentally, being so slippery, slip back in, thereby actually committing the incest.” 

”Yes,” Jonsa agreed with themselves. “That’s exactly how it works.” 

”But.” Jon confirmed. “I must not do the nut inside the sister.” Sansa nodded sadly. “But the sister must nut. Fortunately, since I have recently done so, there’s very little chance of nutting again before…” Jon trailed off before he could tempt the wicked whims of the gods.

It did not take long for Sansa to build up a rhythm of pleasure, Jon’s hands gently steadying her as she watched herself bounce up and down his cock, the Sansa below them scooting back up to seat herself beside the mirror, fingers rubbing vigorously around the apex at her cunt as she watched herself be fucked as her foot moved to shunt the leg of the mirror, as Jon’s attention was caught between the Sansa fucking herself on his cock, and the almost naked queen, legs spread wide, the vivid pinks of her most intimate folds exposed to his hungry gaze. Sansa opened her eyes, still shy at the prospect of watching herself watch herself be fucked, yet she seemed entranced by the feel of the way Jon’s breath huffed at the sight of Sansa touching herself, seemingly unaware of her own actions as her fingers moved to play at the button at the peak of her pussy as the Queen watched as their shared pleasure mounted, before she exploded with a cry, a peak of her own that caused Jon to buck into Sansa, who watched as her own pleasure built up as Sansa scrambled down to lick up her cunny to her clit, the ripping her orgasmic cry from her throat as Jon failed to stop the first squirt of his seed from erupting into her quivering quim, only immense willpower causing Jon to lift her off, pussy still pulsating from her peak as his seed squirted over the kneeling queen’s face, the last remnants dripping down onto her tits as she came again, fingers buried in her own quim and plucking at her nipples, as they all caught their breath, Sansa sagging atop Jon as Sansa collapsed against the side of the bed.

”I think we need a break.” Sansa laughed. 

Jon cradled Sansa’s head as she curled up against him, too tired to speak. “Yeah. Reckon you’re right there.” 

“Think anyone heard us?” Sansa asked. 

“Probably.” Jon admitted. “I don’t think I even locked the door.” 

Sansa chuckled from the floor, dragging herself up. Sansa licked her lips as she turned her head, smirking, as Jon watched her naked form walk across the room, almost reaching the door before it started to creak open.

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking of continuing it but as usual, my lack of planning made me realize, in the moment, there was a chance for a 'thrilling' cliffhanger, not that I ever continue fics, but if I ever do a sequel I have an idea of where to start. 
> 
> I also wondered if it was too ridiculous to have Sansa interact with herself as such did, but A: It's crack and B: Jonsa is hott and C: pending continuing, she miiiiiiiiiiiight have a hidden agenda beyond getting fuel for her spank bank/increasing general levels of lust.


End file.
